


higher than we ever knew that we could go

by Laeana



Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [16]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: (and a plot), (somehow), Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Celebrations, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Podium, Porn with Feelings, Post-Race, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:48:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: Maybe they can't believe it, maybe it's too good. Maybe all this is just a dream and they will soon be waking up, in their beds, still all shaking with adrenaline and multiple feelings that vibrated in them.(It isn't.)
Relationships: Esteban Ocon/Lance Stroll
Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833505
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	higher than we ever knew that we could go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BearWithAHat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearWithAHat/gifts).



Maybe they can't believe it, maybe it's too good. Maybe all this is just a dream and they will soon be waking up, in their beds, still all shaking with adrenaline and multiple feelings that vibrated in them.

Esteban needs to kiss Lance right there right away and it's all the more frustrating that he can't. They are so close to each other, they exchange a hug and his hands linger on his boyfriend's body without being able to stay there. This one gives him a look, knowing very well what he feels.

They feel the same. 

His smile and his enthusiasm never diminish. He congratulates Checo repeatedly, they had quarrels before, but today is not the time for all that. Today is just a celebration day, his day of sorts.

It was hard to always stay smiling and happy, while Daniel had two podiums and he had none, often beaten, to hide the bitterness, to swallow his doubts, while looks full of promise were assuring him that his turn would come yes.

On the podium, he feels good, really good. His first podium in F1. His first podium. 

It's not champagne, but when that icy sensation creeps down his neck and Lance smiles at him, just inches away, he can't help but burst out laughing in the open air. He's happy, he's so happy.

As they descend the steps, his Canadian slips an arm around his shoulders for a few moments, just enough to slip to his ear :

“See you at the hotel, yeah ?”

Lance's gaze is soft, even if his proposal is daring. Love swells in his chest, stronger than ever. He loves him, he's probably one of the best things that has happened to him in his life.

He can only spend his time cherishing him, cherishing the times they can spend together, afternoon, evening, morning, best friends before boyfriends ... in reality, he found it hard to believe in the love, to believe that such a thing could happen to him and then he had Lance.

It was just such a life, just succeeding. He was never allowed to make a mistake, not after all that had been sacrificed for him.

Lance is ready to give him so much and so much more. Anything he wants. And the reverse is true. Their limits don't seem to be enough.

His enthusiasm doesn’t diminish in the interviews that follow. He feels a certain impatience rising up his stomach. He eagerly awaits what will happen. From time to time, he crosses paths with his boyfriend who brushes against him in passing, ephemeral touches, which announce so much more.

It’s almost in a daze that the debriefing takes place and that he changes and suddenly he is in the hotel lobby. Esteban lets himself breathe for a moment, strangely dizzy, carried away by his momentum, but he knows the room number by heart and has already memorized the path, having gone there over the weekend.

He knocks on the door and it opens straight, as if Lance was expecting his visit - he was surely waiting for him - and the smile on his lips is second to none. He waits to be in the room to remove his mask in turn and, already, the Canadian throws himself on his lips. With the run-up, he’s pushed back slightly, finds himself against the wall. An involuntary moan escapes him.

Lance's knee slips between his legs and his hands slip through his hair as his partner's mouth begins to slide down his neck, nibbling at his sensitive skin all the way down his throat, close to his Adam’s apple, with their own sweetness and passion.

For a few seconds, probably, audible curses escape his mouth, and a vague thought crosses his mind in the fog wondering if they have closed the door properly because if anyone finds them in this situation-

“You think too much.” Lance mumbles, his mouth still resting flat against his neck, and he shivers as he feels the rough touch of his beard against his skin.

“Did you close the door properly ?”

He hears no response from his companion, just a hand that touches his already prominent erection and he exhales with difficulty, surprised. The younger boy's breath against his ear.

“I wouldn't let anything spoil our celebrations, mon amour.” then Lance bites his earlobe.

This mixture, this gesture and the combined French, makes him lose his mind a little more and he has to remember to breathe, overwhelmed by the influx of feelings. The temperature has significantly increased in the room.

His boyfriend's hands wander over his body, tracing his contours like a treasure map and this barrier of their clothes quickly becomes too much, and he slightly pushes his lover who has a plaintive growl towards the bed.

When he begins to take off his top, however, a spark seems to light up in Lance's eyes. His pupils darker than ever and, as if he understood the suggestion, he sits on the edge of the bed, his gaze not leaving him for a second.

Esteban does his outmost, slowly, to torture, languidly, his love, to make him wait. He only keeps his boxers, which shows a lot of his condition and drops onto the pelvis of his companion.

Feeling the erection well placed under his arse, a satisfied smile escapes him, and the youngest, as if to put him in his place, slams his ass with a simple gesture. A yelp escapes him and something lewd once again shines in his boyfriend's eyes.

“Fuck … you're so sexy, Este …” 

Lance attacks his chest, taking his time, again, and the rubbing of his beard against his skin will surely leave red marks on him but in the moment, somewhere between pain and pleasure, he lets himself go to the good care of his partner.

“I wanted to take care of you, you were amazing today …”

The whispered words, full of honey, kind of brings him back to consciousness. Maybe he deserves it, maybe that's all he wants in his life; podiums and evenings spent in the arms of the one he loves, nothing more.

He slips his hands under the top of his boyfriend to encourage him to remove this piece of fabric which is also too much. They still have too many clothes between them and he's almost pouting, because he doesn't have what he wants. 

Lance's two hands that pass past his boxers and slide down his arse to pass between and he clings to his neck, cramming his face into the hollow when he feels teasing fingers approaching close to his intimity.

“I wanted … ah … I wanted to reward you too, Lance.” he finally manages to whisper, with difficulty from the gentle torture inflicted on him.

The Canadian shakes his head and comes over to kiss his cheek tenderly, smiling at him, making him see that fucking smile as a first finger slips inside him and he freezes against his boyfriend at the intrusing, didn’t expecting it. Not enough.

Then, Lance lifts him up to put him on the bed, on his back, and this gesture excites him a little more because, by his height, he considers himself bulky and not necessarily the lightest and to see the muscles of his arms flexed by the effort ... 

It’s first his boxers that are removed then his companion pulls back, finally taking off his t-shirt and he represses another noise, his eyes shamelessly roaming this body which is devoted to him, which is his. The tattoo he desperately wants to outline with his tongue but what makes him lose his mind more is the necklace that hangs around his neck.

This necklace that he gave him for his birthday and that he knows he hasn't removed since, and seeing it again now, during their moment, still warms him. The love he feels for the one in front of him …

Out of breath, suddenly, he brings back an arm to cover his eyes for a moment, barely veiling them, because he can never turn away for long from the divine sight offered to him, just for him.

“Already out of breath, bébé ?” the same teasing, always the nicknames slipped in French, Lance knows him a little too well and knows that he has something, a soft spot for him speaking his language.

It's like he's zoned out a bit because the Canadian is now standing in front of him, totally naked, and the vision is twisting something in his stomach. Desire, always more desire. The expanse of skin so white, the only visible coloration of which is this writing: “luck favors the bold”.

Lance's fingers return to him and Esteban is found simply in awe of the vision in front of him. Slightly drooping hair, red cheeks, irregular breathing, probably similar to him. 

He slides a hand down his cheek, to make him look at him, and brings his face back to him to kiss him again. Languorous. Their tongues mingling and he doesn't know how, but his boyfriend is not even distracted in his task and fingers him cleanly. At the point where his prostate is reached and he moans in their kiss, unable to contain himself, a background of stars already visible behind his pupils.

His other hand slides along the side of the Canadian and then goes up, vaguely trace the end of the writings, of the tatto.

He already misses the contact, barely his lover moves away. Once again, the view, just above him, is striking. Lance overlooking him while using one arm as he grabs a condom and opens it with his teeth-

God, he's going to die. The love of his life is going to kill him.

Heart attack, boom.

Even though the sound at the opening is a bit unusual and he frowns, wondering if … Lance has an embarrassed, almost shy smile. A soft laugh escapes from his lips.

“I can't believe it, mon amour !” and yet, sheepishly, his Canadian is adorable “Come over here.”

He draws him to his lips again and takes the opportunity to throw away the package which will no longer be of any use to them, barely pulling aside to whisper between them :

“I want to feel you in me, Lance. Do you think you can do that ?”

He sweeps the moment as if nothing had happened and he can see a fire shining in the eyes of his companion who advances a little lower, continues to work him from the inside, depositing kisses in the interior of his thighs, leaving slight burns.

His head falls back when he feels a teasing tongue slip through him and he doesn't stifle the pleas that fall from his lips. He knows his boyfriend likes him loud, likes to hear him beg him, ask him for more. More, more, more.

There is an interval, another one, which tells him what is going to happen next. Esteban smiles absently as he feels the tip of his love's cock, right beside his hole. His interiors which move away gradually, to welcome the foreign body and this time it’s a rattle that escapes him. Long and hoarse. Accompanying the driving in.

Then Lance is inside him and he still has that same dizzy feeling, a fullness that makes him feel satisfied and happy and fulfilled. There's nowhere else he would want to be, nowhere. He wraps his long legs around the waist of the youngest and sees him fluttering eyelashes, slender, almost delicate, looking fragile. And he is the only one who can see him that way.

His Canadian returns to drop meager kisses on his lips to distract him and his ignored erection starts to press between them as Lance initiates the first back and forth. His eyes are for a moment attracted by the necklace which between them vacillates, moves to the rhythm of the thrusts, and he thinks he can die once again, slowly die of sweetness and languor, by this blessed ordeal.

The rhythm sets in, insatiable, and yet it seems too much to him. Both his arms are passed around his partner's back and his fingernails dig into the flesh every now and then and he will leave marks, and he cannot suppress this urge to make him his own. 

The hand of his boyfriend wedges on his erection to work it over their swerves and their pace suffers a little but he can’t complain because then Lance finds his prostate and the perfect angle. The right place, every time.

He is reduced to no longer finding words, no longer being able to say anything, his brain completely fogged up. He's not even embarrassed to come a little too quickly, between them, and his mate first kisses his wet eyelids - he hadn't even realized he was almost crying - before sealing a kiss on his lips. A last, who has not lost passion, where he is far too sensitive, and where Lance completes his thrusts, spreading in him.

Esteban resumes breathing, slow and steady, as if the air is just coming back to his lungs, as if he has been apnea the whole time.

Lance is absent for a moment but is not long in coming back with a washcloth to clean him and he thanks him with a smile, tired. Everything revolves around him, maybe it was too much. He doesn’t regret anything however.

He moves slightly, slips under the covers. The stifling atmosphere that seemed to surround them has dissipated somewhat and he would find himself almost shivering in such a large bed.

An idea comes to him and he gets up for a moment to go and dig into his jeans pocket before coming back to snuggle up in the sheets, twirling the ring he has just recovered between his fingers.

An arm slips around his waist and he smiles, feeling light kisses on his neck.

“Do you know it doesn't mean much ?” Lance mutters and he can recognize a certain embarrassment in his voice.

“Still, you gave it to me for my birthday.” he answers softly before turning around to face his boyfriend, the projected light highlights the golden glow of the ring. 

His Canadian may say that it isn’t serious, he still chose it in gold.

“It makes me think you know …” he simply resumes, sliding the ring onto his ring finger without any problem.

Lance remains strangely silent, eyes riveted on the vision in front of him, amazed deep down, perhaps unable to put it into words, what they would like to be so much …

“Come here …” Esteban opens his arms and leaves his boyfriend to slide against him so easily. 

It has always been that way between them, a kind of baffling ease, to be comfortable with each other, without even knowing very much, getting to know each other, no matter what between them.

“That moment will come,” he continues, against the ear of his love, calmly, “just as this year's podiums have come. Just like we stood together on top of the world. That moment will come - and you know it - and then I will have only one answer, mon amour, Lance.”

The Canadian has a shaky breath in his neck and he hugs him a little tighter, unable to let go, unable to let him go.

“I love you, Lance, you are one of the most beautiful things that have ever happened to me and I hope you know that.”

The next day, Esteban has trouble to remember to take off his ring and then struggles to do so and manages to keep it secretly on his finger until he gets home.

**Author's Note:**

> kay, just done my first smut ever with this pairing ... think it's been a while since the last time I detailed so much a sex scene lol. Just tell me your thoughts about it ?
> 
> And yeah, kind of a miracle, I finished this actually before the race week, you can thanks laura she motivated me ... normal that this work is for her.  
> Anyway, thanks for having read !
> 
> tumblr : laeana


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